Category: An Observation

Have you been left holding a door while a bunch of people you don’t know pass through without a nod, a smile, a thank you? They see you as their seemingly invisible doorman. Sometimes life leaves you holding the door. Now some people can do this graciously accepting their new position for the moment, others hold the door grudgingly unable to let go because they know it will slam into someone and they don’t want that to happen, others don’t care, if releasing the door from their hold means it will slam into someone, so be it. It’s all so hilarious. It’s a lesson in allowing.

People who write magazine articles often write about how busy and stressed out people are. But the busy and stressed out part of this is that it’s a busyness that’s mostly going nowhere because it’s a busyness caused by not being able to slow down or not being able to be alone.

It’s the same thing with people who drive while using a cell phone. If you ever walk in a city you have to be aware, or else. People who drive while using a cell phone have a look that says driving is secondary to talking on the phone. They don’t notice the things they should be noticing while driving. A little dangerous this is. They must have a angel on their shoulder or they wouldn’t make it home.

What am I getting at? Well, yesterday I saw a handsome, young, well-dressed man smiling as people passed by him as he held a door for a group he wasn’t attached to. They all paraded by, never noticing him, no one thanked him for not slamming the door in their faces. He didn’t care. That attitude was a neat thing to see. And the busy, busy ones? Well, maybe one day they’ll not be too busy to say thank you, or to actually hold the door for themselves and others.

“I have learnt silence from the talkative, toleration from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet strange, I am ungrateful to these teachers.” – Kahlil Gibran

Last night I locked myself out of my apartment building. I came back from having dinner with a friend, put my things on a chair, and picked up a bag to place outside for the garbage collection. The interesting part came when I looked in the little Japanese purse I use as a key holder and found only one key – the one to my apartment. Where was the key to the outside door? I looked on the ground. No key. Then I looked at the buzzers and pressed all of them. No answer. I pressed again, for a longer time. Still no answer. I approached the only people on the street. They were nice. One person made a few calls on her cell phone. No Answer. I thanked them and left. It was a nippy night and I was dressed the way people dress when going out for only a few minutes. With arms huddled against my body for warmth I walked to a restaurant to ask for a phone book. My landlady’s number wasn’t listed. A locksmith would make an easy $100 tonight it seemed. When these things happen, one gets a glimpse into a homeless person’s world. Just a glimpse mind you, but the feeling is there. You’re cold, you have no money, no phone, and strangers look very comfortable in their own setting, and it’s strangers you have to depend on.

I wanted to press all those buzzers one more time before calling a locksmith, and so I started walking back to my apartment building. I had to be quick because the restaurants would be all closed soon. Only one person was on the street and he was ahead of me. Something told me to step up my pace. He thought I was stalking him because he kept looking sideways as we all do when we’re not feeling quite secure. I had a feeling about him. And feelings are important. Sure enough he stopped in front of my building. Then I recognized him as painting there only a few weeks ago. “Hello.” I said. ” You’re the painter. Right?” He smiled and said, “Yes.” Very good I thought. I told him my story and asked, “Do you have a key?” Answered prayers! “Yes.” he said. “I don’t have it with me though. I came to put the garbage out and someone’s picking me up.” He said he’d return with the key. We waited 10 minutes. His ride came and I waited another 20 minutes huddled against a store’s doorway for his return.

I realize this is trivial compared to what’s going on in California. However, the hour that I spent on the street at night trying to get strangers to help me, gave me a very, very slight idea of the feelings going through people who’ve been stripped of all possessions and are now dependant on others. We can’t ever underestimate the importance of strangers in our lives. I bet that if we thought about it, strangers have been there for us more times than we realize.

Here’s to all those strangers. Thank you.